


Of misunderstandings and snow angels

by SilentRain91



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, One Shot, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12918585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentRain91/pseuds/SilentRain91
Summary: Clarke approaches a young woman who has been sitting outside in the cold all day. She thinks she's homeless, so naturally she invites her over for dinner.Lexa is a well-known lawyer who is having a bit of a bad day, until she gets asked out by a pretty blonde with blue eyes who is utterly oblivious as to who she is.





	Of misunderstandings and snow angels

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for the Clexa fandom, which I haven't forgotten about. I hope you'll enjoy. :)

It was a cold, snowy December winter as Clarke moved her boots through the seven inches of snow. She was on her way to the clinic where she worked, wrapped up warmly in her thick red coat, scarfs, gloves and a beanie. With one hand she held her phone to text her colleague she was almost there and in her other she held a latte.

She was supposed to have today off, but one of her colleagues fell ill and they rung her up to ask if she could work. Her colleagues knew she was achingly close to being a workaholic. She never said no when they called her in. The line between her private life and her work life was thin, namely because her friends were colleagues.

Her friend, Octavia, made her smile when she texted Lincoln just saved the life of a little girl. She pocketed her phone to avoid bumping into people. Snowflakes were falling down, adding to the snow carpet on the ground. She sipped from her coffee when something caught her eye, or rather someone.

On the steps in front of the library, a young woman was seated with a book clutched in her hands. The woman had brown locks which were slightly curled and snowflakes had gotten caught in them. She was wearing black fingerless gloves, a long black knitted scarf and basic sneakers. No coat, only some sort of hoodie with a zipper.

The sight of her was making Clarke shiver. This was no weather for anyone to sit outside, yet the woman sat there as if it wasn’t snowing at all, wrapped up in the book she was reading. She bit her lip before shaking her head. It was about to be noon in an hour and people at the hospital were counting on her.

She finished the rest of her coffee and entered the hospital with a smile. “Okay, what do you have for me?” she asked, freeing herself from her scarf.

“Good to see you too, Griffster.”

“It’s nice to see you, Raven,” Clarke said while she unbuttoned her coat. “Now, how is the little girl Lincoln saved?”

“She’s stabilized, but she lost a lot of blood,” Raven answered, handing Clarke a clipboard. “We just got another patient in. Octavia is prepping the room for you.”

Clarke nodded and skimmed through the paperwork on the clipboard. “Room five, got it,” she said, handing Raven her coat. “I’ll go get changed and I’ll be there in ten minutes. Tell Lincoln to put our patient under narcosis.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Raven replied, chuckling. “Oh come on,” she said when Clarke glared at her.

“We’re at the hospital, Rae,” Clarke pointed out, brushing past her. “I need you to be focused.”

“Doctor Griffin, we need you in room seven, stat!” Lincoln called out. “A man has been brought in, he’s seizing and I need someone to stay with his daughter who is crying hysterically by his side.”

Clarke felt like a bucket of ice washed over her. Once upon a time her father seized and she was crying hysterically by his side, but that was ten years ago, when she was eighteen. She cleared her throat, nodding briefly at Raven who rested a hand on her shoulder. She was fine and she was a professional.

“Raven, you stay with the girl,” Clarke ordered. “Lincoln, get started, I’ll be there in two minutes,” she said, rushing to get changed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa saw her breath as she breathed out. The less she focused on the cold the less she felt it. Her morning had been horrible, to put it lightly. At seven in the morning she was at court for a case she built, which she worked on for several weeks. Being a lawyer tended to become tiring and draining from time to time, but she was a damn good lawyer. Or well, at least she thought she was, up until roughly two hours ago.

At court she was fully prepared, neatly clad in a suit and her paperwork at hand. She was known for winning ninety-eight percent of her cases, which wasn’t a bad rate, but it wasn’t good enough. Today she was doing a pro-bono case and she lost. It was a case she truly wanted to win and she didn’t, she failed.

Hearing the judge voice the decision of the jury hit her like a ton of bricks. Before the decision fell she had looked her client in the eyes and told her she was going to make sure the man whom attacked her would pay for his crime. Instead, the jury ruled the man was the victim and decided the woman’s self-defense was faulty. It was true the woman had stabbed the man, though it was pure self-defense.

Now she had to live with the fact an innocent woman who had little needed to serve six months in prison and pay a settlement. She always tried remaining detached from her cases, though she failed doing that as well. Once she came home, she stripped her suit and changed into something more casual.

She went to the library as she did often when she needed to clear her mind. Reading wasn’t going to fix her problems, but it would absorb her in a different world for a while and take her away from the reality she didn’t want to face for a bit. In hindsight she should have worn more clothes, something warmer.

Some people eyed her as if she was poor. One old lady tried to give her money, which she politely declined. Right now she wasn’t some fancy lawyer, she wasn’t Miss Woods. She was just Lexa. Sitting on the steps in front of the library was easier in casual clothes. If she had worn a suit she would have drawn more attention and receive questions she didn’t want to answer. Not that it stopped the occasional passerby from recognizing her. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sky had turned grey by the time Clarke bounded out of the hospital. It was almost dinnertime and her shift had been tiring. Not that she was complaining, considering she often worked longer shifts that would start in the morning and stop somewhere at night. One time she worked thirty hours and she would have worked more if her colleagues hadn’t forced her to go home.

If it was cold earlier, it was icy cold now. The snow carpet had gone from seven inches to a solid sixteen and she felt it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. She walked past the library and froze. The young woman she saw earlier today was still sitting there on those steps, as if she hadn’t moved at all.

There was no way she could will her feet to walk on. She couldn’t ignore the fact a human being sat there all day during the winter. Pondering how she would go by this, she slowly approached the woman, who wasn’t even looking up from the book.

“Hi, I’m Clarke,” Clarke said, smiling slightly when the young woman looked up at her. Oh wow, her eyes were breathtaking, such a gentle green they begged to be painted or sketched.

“I’m Lexa.”

“You have a pretty name,” Clarke blurted out. If her cheeks were red at all, she would blame the cold. She rubbed her hands together. “So um… the library is closing soon.”

Lexa eyed the blonde with the baby blue eyes curiously. “No worries, I have no intention of stealing this book,” she replied, closing the book. “I was on the last page anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, don’t let me stop you from reading how it ends,” Clarke said, holding her hands up. “And I didn’t mean to imply you were going to steal-” she went to say, cutting herself off when she realized that reaction hadn’t been serious.

“I’m not a fan of endings,” Lexa sighed, tucking the book under her arm. “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked, wondering why the blonde kept staring at her and bite her lip, though she couldn’t say she minded either one of those things. She always had a soft spot for blondes with blue eyes.

“Um… you see here’s the thing,” Clarke said, sighing audibly. “You probably didn’t see me earlier, but earlier today when I was on my way to work, I saw you sitting here and I just wondered if you erm… if you’ve eaten anything?”

“Oh,” Lexa whispered. She hadn’t seen the blonde, purely because she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings. “I lost track of time, it’s a bad habit I should shake,” she said, which could be a goal for next year. She really should have kept track of time, although she had nowhere to be for the rest of the day.

“Right,” Clarke replied, scratching the back of her neck, frowning. “I’m about to have dinner at my place, but I have enough for two because a friend was supposed to eat over, but she bailed at the last minute,” she lied easily. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

Lexa opened and closed her mouth, surprised the blonde was inviting her over for dinner when they didn’t even know each other. It was strange, but who was she to say no to a gorgeous lady? “I’d be happy to,” she answered, mentally cursing herself for her eagerness. She was a hopeless gay, always had been. “I’m going to bring this book back. It’ll only take a minute.”

Clarke beamed, feeling happy she could give a homeless person a meal. By now homeless people usually rushed towards a nearby shelter to get a bed before they would all be taken. She didn’t buy Lexa’s excuse about having lost track of time. Nobody sat out in the cold all day without proper clothing or a meal just because they lost track of time.

She would have to be careful to avoid offending the young woman. It was a relief her dinner suggestion was accepted without any hiccups. At first she thought she needed to come up with a longer speech to convince her, but it went surprisingly easy, which meant Lexa must have been starving. Her excuse to invite the woman had been impromptu, the first one that popped into her head. It was a strange excuse to use to ask a stranger for dinner, but it worked.

Lexa exited the library. “Lead the way?” she asked, jumping up when a hand slipped into hers.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” Clarke blurted out. “I just uh… I often hold hands with friends and such,” she explained vaguely. The truth was she noticed how Lexa was shivering and grasping her hand proved her hands were ice picks.

Lexa didn’t know what to think of the blonde. Inviting a stranger over for dinner was one thing, but holding hands was a whole other thing. She knew it was often joked about how fast lesbians moved, though Clarke ought to slow down. A dinner date was fine because the blonde was attractive, but despite that she was going too fast. At this rate she might be asked to move in by the end of the night. Now that would truly be crazy.

Clarke picked up her pace, eager to get home so Lexa could warm up. “Speed walking is one of my exercises, it keeps my blood flow going,” she called out over her shoulder to the poor woman who was forced to holler after her.

Lexa’s lips twitched, amused how she ended up following such a dork home. “If you slip on ice you’ll get more blood flow than you bargained for,” she said, which seemed to slow Clarke down somewhat.

“You have a point,” Clarke admitted. If she would break a leg her colleagues wouldn’t be pleased. “I don’t live far away, so we’re almost there, just one more block.”

Lexa caught up with Clarke. “What if I’m a serial killer?” she asked, observing the blonde who was curling a lock of her hair around her finger. Clarke was like a walking snow angel. It was odd how she had gotten lucky to be asked out by her when she made zero attempts of flirting with her.

“Hmm,” Clarke hummed. She tried not to lick her chapped lips too much, given that would only dry them out more. “Are you a serial killer?”

“No,” Lexa answered, slipping her hands in her pockets. She really had been outside too long. Not wearing a coat was a mistake.

“Then I’m not worried,” Clarke replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Lexa managed a small chuckle. “You’ll take my word for it?” she asked, surprised the blonde appeared gullible. Personally she would never take a stranger home. It was like taking a stray home.

“Consider it a leap of faith,” Clarke answered, flashing Lexa a pearly white smile. “Do you read often?” she asked, deciding that no matter what, she needed to avoid bringing up the young woman being homeless.

“Almost every day,” Lexa answered, nodding. “When I was younger, I used to read on a blanket in front of the fireplace or on the windowsill, where I had my own little corner to gaze out of the window. My father had a grand library,” she said, sighing at all of the memories.

“Had…?”

“He passed away when I was younger,” Lexa said with a bittersweet smile.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke replied, biting her lip. “I lost my father too.”

“You mentioned earlier you saw me on your way to work,” Lexa recalled. It wouldn’t be a good move if she would let Clarke come up with all the questions. She didn’t want to seem as if she was uninterested in getting to know her. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of job do you have?”

“I don’t mind at all, feel free to ask away,” Clarke answered, perhaps a bit too fast and eager. “I work at the hospital, I’m a doctor,” she said, hoping she wasn’t making Lexa uncomfortable. “I’m a simple basic woman though.”

“You’re a doctor?” Lexa asked, failing to keep her surprise out of her voice. “I didn’t expect that from a woman who speed walks on ice.”

“I may have taken my colleagues telling me to break a leg a bit too literal,” Clarke replied, feeling her stomach swoop when she saw Lexa smile, a smile she put on her face. While making her smile was nice, she was more interested in putting food in her stomach, for starters.

Lexa was impressed Clarke was a doctor, given they had to be close in age, late twenties, no older. “I’m a-”

“We’re here!” Clarke shouted. “Oh… I interrupted you,” she said, cringing at how rude that was of her. “What were you going to say?”

“It was nothing,” Lexa answered with a faint smile. The blonde didn’t seem to have a clue who she was and it was a nice change of pace. “You do realize I’m walking right next to you, right?” she asked, chuckling dryly while she rubbed at her ears.

Clarke really wasn’t good at this, but she was nervous. It was the first time she brought a homeless person home with her and she had to stop getting distracted by her natural beauty. It should have been illegal how fantastic Lexa looked in that ugly knitted scarf and those clothes which looked worn.

“Mi casa es tu casa,” Clarke said while she swung her door open.

“U-hauling on the first date when we haven’t even had dinner yet?” Lexa commented teasingly. “You are something else.”

“Date,” Clarke replied, eyes going wide. “Is totally what this is, yup,” she said, nodding heavily when Lexa stared at her. “I hah… busted,” she laughed awkwardly. If that was why the young woman had agreed so readily, she wondered if it was possible Lexa fancied her.

Outside Lexa thought Clarke’s cheeks were red due to the cold, though it wasn’t cold inside her house and her cheeks were still red. The blonde had a cute blush and she was a bit awkward, but she didn’t mind one bit because she was adorable.

Clarke’s fingers were shaking as she unbuttoned her coat because oh god, somehow she managed to make Lexa think this was a date. Admittedly, thinking back, it did seem like she asked her out. All in all, it was a relief the homeless woman thought that was what it was.

Five minutes later, Lexa was sitting on Clarke’s couch, admiring the paintings on the walls. Most of the paintings were landscapes. There was one of the woods with stars above it.

“I see my paintings caught your attention,” Clarke said as she walked in with a bowl of soup. She was grateful she always kept soup in the freezer, ready to be warmed up and eaten. The sooner Lexa ate something, the better. “Dinner is on the fire, but here’s some soup.”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa replied, accepting the bowl.

Clarke had to urge her jaw not to drop due to how Lexa pronounced her name, popping the K and how their fingers brushed as she handed the bowl over.

“Those paintings are yours?” Lexa asked, glancing from the paintings to Clarke. “Or am I interpreting what you said wrong?”

“I painted them,” Clarke clarified, smiling. “It’s a hobby of mine.”

“Your eye for details is phenomenal, you have raw talent,” Lexa complimented genuinely, pleased to see Clarke blush. “If I ever want a self-portrait, I’ll make sure to contact you,” she said with a wink, and okay now she was flirting with her. She nearly added how Clarke could paint her like one of her French ladies, but she had a draw a line somewhere.

“I’d do it for free,” Clarke offered, not just because Lexa was homeless but because she wanted to. “You could be my new muse.”

“I’m flattered,” Lexa replied, blowing over her soup. “Perhaps I can take you out for dinner someday?” she asked, surprising herself by asking Clarke out when this date hardly begun.

“Don’t sweat it,” Clarke answered, understanding Lexa wasn’t in a position to afford food, let alone for two. “No rush,” she said, plastering on a smile. “I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Lexa honestly didn’t know what to make of Clarke anymore. First the blonde rushed to get this date and now that she asked her out for a second date she suddenly wanted to slow down. She wondered if Clarke regretted bringing her here, although so far she had been friendly. Then again, the moment she mentioned the word date, those blue eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her skull.

Maybe she read this situation wrong. For all she knew Clarke wasn’t flirting with her and didn’t ask her out on a date. She didn’t even know if the blonde was even into women, although she had a feeling she was because there was always a certain tell with women. The soup was not too spicy and not too flat either. She drank it eagerly, grateful to consume food after all the hours where she ate nothing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke proudly presented her table, hoping she hadn’t overdone it. She cooked sweet potatoes, green beans and chicken.

“The food smells delicious, Clarke,” Lexa said, taking a seat across from her.

“Enjoy,” Clarke said with a warm smile. “Help yourself to as much as you’d like.”

Lexa eyed the amount of food. It was enough to feed a family. She assumed Clarke was trying to impress her and none of this felt platonic. It was crazy what she let herself get talked into simply because those ocean blues sold her.

Clarke ate as slowly as she possibly could, just on the verge of looking as if she wasn’t chewing at all and just held the food in her mouth. She wanted to ensure Lexa took her time and wouldn’t feel rushed in the slightest.

They made small conversation while they ate, talking about things they liked and books they read. After dinner, they washed the dishes together.

“Dinner was lovely,” Lexa said with a polite smile, deciding she would over welcome her stay if she didn’t leave soon.

“Um wait,” Clarke blurted out, panicked Lexa would leave so soon. “There’s dessert too,” she said, although there wasn’t, but there would be now.

“Oh, I’m kind of full,” Lexa replied regretfully. If she had known about the dessert in advance she would have saved space for it. “But not fully full yet,” she said, changing her mind just to see Clarke’s face light up.

“Fully full,” Clarke chuckled, almost calling her cute while she was at it. She blushed when Lexa swatted her arm. “Make yourself comfortable on my couch or anywhere else you’d like.”

“Anywhere?” Lexa asked, raising a manicured eyebrow.

Clarke gulped. “If you would like to take a nap I can show you my bedroom,” she offered, which she wouldn’t mind one bit.

“I was kidding, Clarke,” Lexa replied, shaking her head.

“So was I,” Clarke said quickly, even though she wasn’t. “I’ll have dessert ready as soon as possible I just need to make it first.”

Lexa stared at Clarke with a puzzled look on her face. At this point it may have been impossible for the blonde to behave any more awkward and she kind of felt for her, how nervous she was being. Perhaps Clarke was recently out. Then again, she was out since elementary but that didn’t stop her from getting flustered around beautiful women from time to time.

“The ingredients would go bad if I don’t use them today,” Clarke justified, adding another lie.

Lexa had the feeling Clarke was trying to keep her around a while longer, though she didn’t mind. “I understand,” she said, gazing into those blue eyes. She felt something simmer inside of her as those baby blues dipped down to her lips for a second.

Clarke busied herself in her kitchen, unsure what kind of dessert she would make. It had to be something that would take a while, something like a cake. A cake she would absolutely have to decorate afterwards. There was no way she could send Lexa out in the cold, not when the news had announced a snowstorm was coming.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa almost forgot about the seconds and minutes ticking away or how the snow outside kept piling up because she was lost in watching Clarke smile. Somehow she had let herself get talked into borrowing pajamas due to how the blonde claimed it would be comfortable and warm while they waited for dessert to be ready. She had a feeling Clarke was the type of woman who could charm her way into selling ice cream cones in the middle of winter.

“It must be fate we have the same shoe size,” Clarke said, smiling at the sight of Lexa wearing a pair of fuzzy slippers.

“Either fate or terrible bad luck,” Lexa replied with a chuckle when Clarke gasped. “I can’t believe you own more than two pairs of these,” she said, having seen how she had at least ten pairs, if not more. “I don’t even own a single pair.”

Clarke’s smile fell because of course Lexa didn’t. “Well, you do now,” she said, putting her smile back in place. “It’s almost Christmas, consider it a gift.”

“You’re a kind soul, Clarke,” Lexa whispered, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear. “I’ll think about you whenever I wear these,” she said, wiggling her toes. She saw the blonde blush again and gave herself a mental fist-bump. On second thought, the fuzzy slippers weren’t so bad.

“How about we watch a movie while we wait for dessert?” Clarke asked, folding a blanket open. “Oh and keep the pajamas as well,” she added as an afterthought.

“I suppose my days of sleeping nude are over,” Lexa said, laughing when Clarke’s jaw dropped. “I’m kidding, I don’t sleep naked,” she assured her, pleased as she saw curious eyes roam down her body, before coming up to meet hers with a blush.

“I just erm… yeah, sleeping naked would be cold in the winter,” Clarke said, coughing awkwardly. That wasn’t smooth at all when she wanted to avoid the elephant in the room about Lexa being homeless.

“Most nights I sleep half-naked,” Lexa shared, which was the truth.

“Oh, yeah, hah, that’s so much better,” Clarke mumbled, blushing away while she tried to find the bloody remote so she could create a diversion. She was definitely totally not thinking about – okay yes, yes, she was thinking about Lexa half-naked and she shouldn’t. “Hey, I have a fun idea,” she said, snapping her fingers.

Lexa leaned back on the couch. “Do tell,” she said, curious what kind of strange thing Clarke was up to next.

Clarke finally found the damn remote. “We could do a marathon of Christmas movies,” she said, starting Netflix up.

Lexa wasn’t sure about sitting through a marathon of movies. She wasn’t into movies all that much too begin with. One was fine, but more than one was a bit much. Then again, that dessert wasn’t going to be ready anytime soon and the prospect of cuddling with a beautiful woman under a blanket was one she didn’t want to pass up. She found herself nodding her agreement, being such a sucker for the blonde with blue eyes who somehow captivated her.

Clarke was thankful for the darkness as they watched _Love Actually_ together, which she chose purely because it was a lengthy movie. She was sure she was blushing badly, sitting so close to Lexa.

Halfway through the movie Lexa had readjusted so her arm was wrapped around Clarke who was resting her head on her shoulder. She was glad her sour day was changing for the better. The movie was plain background noise and she was watching Clarke more than the movie.

Clarke shivered briefly at the thought of where Lexa would have been if she hadn’t taken her home with her. There was no way she could send her back out tonight, she had to make sure she would sleep over. With a raging snowstorm there was no way Lexa would survive the night outside. Giving her food and clothing wasn’t enough. If she could just keep her for the night she could help her find a better solution in the morning, a more permanent solution maybe.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Eating cake around midnight was strange.

Lexa had the feeling Clarke was just as full as she was, judging from the thin slice of cake she had in front of her. Meanwhile her slice was more like a slice of pizza, only not flat. “I must admit I’m not much of a sweet tooth,” she confessed. “I tend to stick to a strict diet, although I would call it a lifestyle,” she said, preferring to treat her body like a temple.

“Don’t feel obligated to eat more than you wish,” Clarke replied with a tight smile. Perhaps she had been pushing too much food onto Lexa. Of course there was food with more nutritional value than cake, which the homeless woman needed more. She should have opted for a healthier dessert, something with fruit, with vitamins.

“Your paintings look like more than a hobby,” Lexa brought up, unable to let go how many paintings Clarke had and how she lit up when she talked about them.

“To be honest, when I was younger I wanted to go to art school,” Clarke revealed. “I had this dream of opening my own art gallery, selling paintings or even teach other people how to paint. My mother is a doctor and I guess you could say it’s a classic tale of how she wanted me to follow into her footsteps, so I did. Losing my father is what pushed me over the edge to become a doctor. They couldn’t save him and that stung, but I knew they did all they could and I decided I wanted to save lives.”

“I take it your father would have been quite proud of you,” Lexa replied, moving her hand to rest it on top of Clarke’s, stroking her skin with her thumb. “Have you ever considered cutting back some hours at the hospital so you could sell paintings on the side? Because the thing is, nobody ever said you couldn’t have both. It depends on you, of course, but the road of possibilities is endless.”

Clarke smiled a little at that. “You really don’t like endings, hm?” she noted.

Lexa was taken aback Clarke remembered that. Usually when people addressed her, they tended to forget what she said fairly quickly, especially her first few words. “The way I see it, there are only beginnings and almost endings.”

“Almost endings,” Clarke snorted. “You’re a dreamer then?”

“Sometimes, but don’t tell anyone or I would have to kill you,” Lexa replied, pressing a finger against her lips. “I’m supposed to be serious, so it’s a well-kept secret.”

“It sounds well-kept,” Clarke teased. “The weather has gone bad outside,” she noted, glancing out of the window. “It’s awfully late, I suppose we lost track of time.”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, feeling like somehow Clarke was being deliberate with her words and had lost track of time on purpose.

“How about you sleep over tonight?” Clarke suggested, deciding now was a good time to throw it onto the table, given it was night. “There’s a snowstorm outside and as a doctor it would be irresponsible of me to send you through it.”

Lexa assumed Clarke wasn’t going to take no for an answer and given she was such a sucker for blondes she found she couldn’t say no if she tried. She had the feeling she walked right into this trap, like it was a setup from the very beginning.

It was definitely a setup when Clarke turned out to have only one bed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s plenty comfortable,” Clarke said reassuringly. Her bed was big enough for two, but she didn’t want to add any more discomfort for Lexa.

“I cannot take your bed while you sleep on the couch,” Lexa replied, because if anything she should take the couch. She wasn’t going to chase Clarke out of her own bed.

“I slept on the couch before and I get to sleep in my bed every night anyway,” Clarke blurted out, regretting her words the second she said them. She had to stop hinting at Lexa being homeless. It didn’t need to be rubbed in.

Lexa wasn’t going to give in about this. At first she thought Clarke would try to sleep with her, though it didn’t sound like that was what she was trying to do. “Either we share the bed or I will sleep on the floor next to the couch,” she said, not planning on relenting this time.

“Fair warning, I tend to cuddle when I share a bed with someone.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa tried to calm her inner gay when she climbed in bed with Clarke. She had never shared a bed with a woman without getting intimate, so this was different.

Clarke lied down, her hair splaying out over her pillow. She turned to lie down on her side so she could face Lexa, who hopefully didn’t notice she was blushing, although she ought to yank at the cord close to her headboard to shut her lights off first.

Lexa struggled not to look at how Clarke’s breasts jiggled each time she moved. Now those were what she would call a good handful. Great, this was supposed to be platonic, but instead she was being a useless gay. It was baffling how clueless the blonde was about who she was, although she liked the fact she didn’t know. When people knew who she was, they treated her differently.

“Freckle,” Clarke whispered.

“Pardon?” Lexa asked, mouth going dry at the way Clarke’s eyes dipped down to her lips. As the blonde shifted closer, she wondered if she planned to kiss her.

Clarke touched a finger to Lexa’s upper lip. “You have a tiny freckle,” she whispered, smiling, until she realized she was touching her. “It’s cute,” she said, retrieving her finger.

“I am many things, though I do not consider cute to be one of them,” Lexa replied, disagreeing with that statement. Women didn’t call her cute, especially not when she wore a suit and had women fawn over her.

“Did you just pout?” Clarke asked, smiling as she was certain she caught a glimpse of a pout. “Awe, cute,” she whispered, chuckling while Lexa rolled over onto her other side, turning her back to her. “Are you a little spoon?”

Lexa was about to form an argument to state she was absolutely not a little spoon, but then she felt Clarke’s body press against hers and all logic went out of the window. “Goodnight, Clarke,” she whispered when the lights went out.

Clarke let go off the cord. “Goodnight, Lexa,” she whispered, keeping one arm loosely wrapped around her. Maybe spooning was too much, but overall she was an affectionate person and Lexa hadn’t flinched away.

Lexa shivered later during the night when she felt Clarke’s hand caress up and down her arm. She contemplated pretending she was asleep, but she turned around instead, unsure if she heard a faint gasp.

“I’m not used to sleep in this bed,” Lexa whispered, always having struggled to sleep in strange places.

Clarke wondered how many nights Lexa spent without being able to sleep in a bed. She hoped her bed was offering more comfort than the other places where she slept, which she hoped wasn’t on some piece of cardboard. “If there is anything I can do to help you sleep, let me know,” she whispered.

Lexa couldn’t stop staring as she felt Clarke’s fingertips touch her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She assumed the blonde wasn’t even aware she was caressing her arm again and her hum was too peaceful to stop her.

Clarke yawned and wanted to bury her face in a pillow when her series of yawns made Lexa chuckle not so subtly. “I know I sound weird when I yawn,” she sighed, as she had been told in the past.

“You sound adorable, don’t stop on my accord,” Lexa replied, absentmindedly lacing her fingers together with Clarke’s in between their bodies.

That made Clarke wanting to bury her face in a pillow all the more. It had been a long time since she had time or rather made time to have a date, and inadvertently, she turned bringing Lexa to her place into a date by giving her the wrong impression. They did say the most beautiful things often took place unexpectedly. “I’ll admit I’m adorable if you admit you’re cute,” she whispered, slowly moving her fingers up and down between Lexa’s.

“Hmm?” Lexa hummed. “You’ll admit what?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“I’m adorable,” Clarke answered, frowning immediately after. “Wait a second…oh, you,” she said, laughing as she poked Lexa.

Lexa grasped Clarke’s wrist and then her other wrist, pushing her down.

“Damn,” Clarke whispered, wriggling to no avail. “You’re stronger than you look,” she said, surprised a young woman with such a lithe body held her down with ease.

“Never underestimate your opponent, Clarke,” Lexa whispered as she let go and flopped back down.

Clarke peered at her ceiling for what felt like ages. The young woman next to her hadn’t moved an inch in a while. “I think I like you,” she whispered to Lexa’s sleeping form.  

Lexa’s pulse quickened due to the hushed confession in the dark.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke chewed the inside of her cheek, watching Lexa fully dressed and ready to leave while the sun had barely risen. “You can have breakfast with me,” she offered, though it was more of a silent plea.

“I think I have been at your place long enough,” Lexa said, rejecting her offer respectfully. She was willing to go on another date with Clarke if she wanted to, as she had asked her last night.

“Not at all,” Clarke disagreed, wringing her hands together. “At least have breakfast with me? I’m worried you wouldn’t eat today otherwise,” she confessed.

Lexa frowned, because she told her she lost track of time yesterday. “What are you talking about, Clarke?” she asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“I know you’re homeless,” Clarke confessed. She couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room any longer. Dancing around it wouldn’t help and so far Lexa hadn’t talked about it. “And I want to help you,” she added, to ensure her she didn’t have to go through it alone.

“Homeless?” Lexa asked with a deep frown. “I’m not homeless.”

“Lexa…,” Clarke sighed. “You don’t have to lie about it, it is okay. You sat on those steps in the snow for so long yesterday and you hadn’t eaten. There’s no shame in being homeless.”

“Oh, Clarke… you dork,” Lexa whispered, chuckling. “This explains why you were behaving in such a strange manner. I’m not homeless. I have a home and I also have a job, I’m a lawyer.”

“Wait what?” Clarke asked, confused. “But you… huh… a lawyer, really?”

Lexa smiled and pulled out a business card. “Lexa Woods,” she answered, handing Clarke the card. She had no choice but to let the cat out of the bag, although she hoped she could have saved doing that until the third date or so.

“Oh my god, you’re Alexandria Woods,” Clarke gasped. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were homeless,” she said, cringing. All in all, she was wrong to make judgments based upon the little knowledge she had.

“Don’t fret about it, you were cute,” Lexa said, caressing Clarke’s cheek. “It’s nice to know you like me for me and not for the money I earn. You thought I had nothing and yet you looked at me as if I had everything, as if I was everything.”

Clarke sighed. “Was I really that obvious?” she asked, although Lexa’s look already answered her question. “I hope to see you again.”

“You’re like a snow angel,” Lexa said, blushing because she hadn’t meant to say that aloud. “I would like to kiss you, with your permission.”

“You had me at snow angel,” Clarke whispered, smiling.

Lexa drew Clarke closer and kissed her soundly on the lips.

Clarke was happy a small misunderstanding led to all of this as she eagerly kissed Lexa back.

Their story wasn’t ending, it was only just beginning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after. 
> 
> I had this idea last night and it wouldn't let me go, so I spent hours writing it today. :)


End file.
